Cat and Mouse
by SkyeMoor
Summary: Hermione Granger goes to her first Christmas Party at her first job after University. ... Is that Severus Snape? smiling?
1. Chapter 1

Granger was standing, rather awkwardly, in the midst of an Office Christmas Party. Her first, as it so happened. And, as such things are wont to do, it was tremendously awkward. She hadn't anything to talk with people about, having spent her last four years at University working herself to death... or glory. There was a reason she was here, just as there was a reason she had been sorted into Gryffindor. And to talk about her primary schooling... well, it went without saying that it would be better to keep the conversation on microcontrollers and bitfields.

As she turned to Sam, answering a question of his - she heard, off in the distance, a silken voice that purred, in a very precise drawl. As if she was a marionette, Granger spun towards it.

Across the room, at twenty paces, Severus Snape was smiling. Oh, he was standing in a half-lit corner, and from the way his eyes sparkled, he had scored a critical hit, sure to leave some fragile psyche bleeding. But, he was smiling... and the expression made him look ten years younger. Actually, make that twenty.

 _Regardless_ , what in the seven hells and eight heavens was he doing _here_? Granger had spent years immersed in the Muggle World - acquiring a degree made more than brief trips to the Wizarding World rather difficult. So, truth be told, Granger hadn't been expecting to recognize anyone, except perhaps a university classmate. But Saint Peter himself would have been more expected than seeing Severus Snape in the midst of a Muggle Office Christmas Party!

Restraining the urge to stomp her foot, she meandered over as if there wasn't a bee in her bonnet, demanding answers to this enigma... A gentle word here, an introduction there - Granger herself never noticing exactly how much _easier_ social interaction had gotten, now that she had something Important on her mind.

As Granger stepped into Snape's field of vision, he quipped, "I've never minded people thinking I'm an elitist prick. My prick is frankly elite, thank you very much." At that, Hermione's eyes had gotten as big as saucers, and only her impatience to understand just what he was doing there kept her from stepping a step backward, as he turned toward her and introduced himself. "Damien Lanning, and you are?" His teeth gleamed whitely inside that cheeky grin, though his eyes glinted like moonlight on a midnight pool.

"Hermione Granger," she snapped out, having only the presence of mind to keep it from sounding frankly militant. He was not a drill sergeant - no drill sergeant in history has ever worn _that,_ she thought. Clad in a white blousy shirt, with flared sleeves, and with matte black pants and crisply shiny boots, he looked the very part of a rake. Which, naturally, he was.

"Who's the lucky lad?" He inquired, his eyes piercing before softening just slightly. "Or lass, I wouldn't want to presume..."

"And yet you have, nonetheless." Granger fired off swiftly. "No date at all, I've only just been hired, as an electronic engineer working with silica..."

Before Granger could really get going, Snape interrupted frostily. "Oh, have you? I'll have to have a word about their hiring practices..." Granger barely had time to bristle before Snape pivoted on his heel, his eye catching sight of someone else.

As Snape turned away, Granger moved in front of him, "And you? Pardon, but you don't really look like the party-going type..."

"I assure you, I'm on the clock." Granger then had an entirely inappropriate thought of Snape as a gigolo, with the surprising revelation that with him smiling, he might could actually pull it off...

"And what exactly do you do for Orange Communications, sir? You aren't listed on their website as staff anywhere." Granger thought she'd simply die if he really was a gigolo. _No, we are not smiling at him, we are not in a position to explain why we are smiling!_

"Ah, well, there is a reason for that..." He said, his voice sparkling as it purred, the hidden meaning blatant: I know something you don't know.

"Are you part of human resources, then?"

"I think you could safely say that, yes..." His voice purred sweetly, as his eyes flashed anything but sweetness.

At just that moment, the CFO of the company stepped up - the CEO's daughter, she said, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I need a word with Mr. Lanning." as she grabbed Snape by the arm and tugged him away. As Granger watched them walk off, she heard distantly, "How is it you manage to discomfit every single person here, except for the youngest electrical engineer, who you manage to completely settle down?" Snape's voice purred in response, "Talent."

And that was the last she saw of him. Any attempts to ask about him were greeted with assorted "Don't ask" and "You _don't_ want to know..." and "He's better than the last one, that one liked the secretaries..." At that point the office lady had eyed Granger up and down. Backing up a bit, Granger had hastily decided that asking more questions was probably a bad idea, if someone was honestly thinking she might be... _interested_ in Snape.

[a/n: read and review! I have a few more scenes, and then nothing more in my head. 10 reviews for the story to continue!]


	2. Presentation is Everything

At the crack of dawn, the sun lit orange on the horizon, the squat office building lay shrouded in shadow. Within the dark corners slunk a suspiciously tall shadow, clad in black and the snowiest of white. Unerringly (for he had the blueprints), his feet led him to precisely where he wished to go. With a whispered spell, the sulphured match lit, lighting the room in flickering chiaroscuro. In mere moments, the room descended into darkness again. And he waited, as Severus Snape was wont to do. He had much practice, after all.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione Granger woke to the morning sun, still golden in her window. Hermione was a morning person, and she showered and brushed her hair, putting on some lipgloss, and began to contemplate breakfast. Or rather, that is what she would have done, had it been an ordinary Monday Morning. This one was not, for inside her head swirled the Christmas Party from the weekend before. If there was one thing that Hermione had a weakness for, it was mysteries, and this one snuck around in her head, peeking out from disused corners, and teasing her with the barest glimpse before disappearing. _"What was Damien eating today?"_ her mind fruitlessly asked. _"Did Human Resources realize he was working for them?"_ At that, Granger put her foot down. It was quite simply None of Her Business, and she was done thinking about it. Pouring a bit of golden syrup on her oatmeal, she proceeded to daintily eat it - most likely because she had forgotten she was eating, due to her sudden absorption in _Night Ride and Sunrise._ Her alarm went off, again, and she stood, stepping out to catch the bus. As she sat down, her mind refocused onto the difficult problem of increasing shelf stability... Happily, she spent the rest of the busride rethinking common solutions, looking for uncommon tangents.

* * *

Today, Granger was going to look through the current capacitor lines, devising a good metric for remembering the tolerance, shelf life and operating temperature. She was working here, she ought to know everything by heart. As she approached her office, Mr. Cooper waved at her, and she was still returning her greeting as she stepped into her office, her hand absentmindedly turning on the light. As she turned to her desk, Granger saw Severus Snape, leaning back in her chair, his arms folded behind his head. Looking down the length of him, she saw his worn boots on her desk. On her _temporarily_ chaotic desk, where there were any number of important printouts and handwritten lists.

Turning a glare easily the match for the worst he'd ever used on her, Granger growled, "Get your feet off my desk. Look at what you've done! You've mussed _everything_. Whatever gave you the impression my desk was a worthy ottoman?" With each sentence spoken, she advance into the room, until her hands were on the desk, and she was leaning over his shoes.

To this, Damien Lanning nee Severus Snape merely smirked, saying simply, "As you wish." And he folded his long legs, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Granger sent him a glare, knowing that he, simply put, probably didn't _care_. At all, about anything.

"Do you have some reason for being in my office, or are you simply here because you've noplace else to go?"

"As much as your office did need taking in hand..." Snape began, his hand gesturing out from that black leather jacket of his towards ... her notes, all neatly compiled and sitting on a filing cabinet. Granger fought to keep her jaw from dropping, her eyes skimming wrathfully to the ... blank pieces of paper that were on her desk, carefully placed in exactly the places she had _neatly_ stacked her lists and arrangements of printouts.

Granger ground her teeth, as she met his gaze steadily, "Yes?"

"You are assigned to me, as apparently the staff here thinks my knowledge of the company's business is insufficient. You'll be delighted to know that they're correct in their assessment. Take the rest of the day to wrap up your current projects, and meet me at the front office at 6 in the evening." Snape inclined his head, in a near dismissal that said clearly, _I've said all I'm going to_.

"Why me?!" Granger spat, her focus more on being quiet than suppressing her feelings.

Damien Lanning merely shrugged, before purring, "Plenty to choose from, really. Your command of the subject material..."

"I'm new" Granger impatiently cut him off.

"Another point in your favor, of course." Damien Lanning said with a smirk.

"How so?"

"New is the nice way of saying gofer."

"So, expendable?"

"They wouldn't have hired you if they didn't need you, but they need me functional more, not the least of which is that I charge more per hour." Composed, Snape continued to study Granger from behind Hermione Granger's _own_ desk.

"What else?" Granger snapped, her voice quiet if not the least menacing. A kitten trying to masquerade as a lion.

"Well, you are the only person I could seem to _remotely_ get along with at the event last weekend."

"They called that _getting along_?" Granger couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice, though truth be told, she wasn't really trying either.

"They don't know me very well, do they?" and Snape's eyes sparkled. "Meet me at 6, we'll do dinner." And he sprang lightly to his feet, moving around Hermione like a white-ruffed cat, then proceeding to jauntily stroll out of her office, whistling.

Granger fought to keep her face turned towards her still spinning chair, even as Snape strode out of the office without as much as a by your leave.

She steadied the chair, then slumped into it, cradling her head in her hands. _What else could go wrong?_ This was her job, after all, and she wanted to be doing it, not assigned as some sort of scientific attache to _whatever_ the **hell** Severus Snape thought he was doing.

[a/n: Do read the novella mentioned here. If you want to know what worn out boots look like, google Obama worn shoes.]


	3. The Laughing Fox

Through sheer stubbornness, Hermione Granger had worked through most of the morning organizing her test results, completing the tasks she had set herself to accomplish in a full week's time.

And so now, after lunch, she had no excuse left. For Hermione Granger prided herself on being prepared, and she was going to be starting a new endeavor today. With Prof- Mr. Damien Lanning. And so, she considered, she ought to know a bit more about the man. Discrete questions around the workplace yielded surprisingly expected answers - he was a curt, distant man, who seemed to appear and disappear with seemingly little reason or rhyme. And that he was altogether a better man, if quieter, than his predecessor, who had been let go for crimes against women committed in this workplace (a secretary, specifically, and by the way no one mentioned her name, Hermione wondered if she had also been let go).

The questions, the gossip, the frank "seeking out of rumors" had only taken an hour, though, which left her with plenty of time for actual thought. Why was he here? Surely he couldn't - hadn't - didn't know she was here? Had he asked for her? Taken her under his wing under duress? What was his job, anyway? You'd have thought if it was human resources, people would simply _say that_. And why wasn't his name listed on the company website? Everyone was listed, down to the lowest janitor, except Lanning and Granger. And the webmaster had assured her that he was about to do a revision with her name on it.

And so the time grew close to five, and Hermione Granger stood from her desk and walked, lightly and softly, towards the front office. For once in her life, Hermione felt unprepared. It was an unsettling feeling, like having your entire body shocked back after it had gone numb - the pins and needles all over, demanding she fidget, though her pride held her back.

Standing outside the front office, Hermione Granger waited impatiently. Inside, with the exec, loitered one Mr Lanning, who was using the glint of the window to watch for his partner's arrival. As he saw her arrive, he drawled, "Who do you need me to kill today?"

Outside, Hermione Granger turned white, her entire visage paling, as her head whipped toward that insouciant purr of a man's voice. _Was that what he meant by human resources?_ Granger thought in her head, her thoughts spinning fast enough to nearly squeak. Nearly instantly, her mind brought back the image of him with his feet on her desk earlier. That black leather jacket... the one tailor made for throwing knives, or maybe wands. **

The secretary looked up and noticed Hermione, smiling warmly and rushing towards her. "Oh, don't mind _him_! We haven't had him kill anything but a bunch of lousy squirrels!"

"Eavesdropping again, Miss Granger?" Mr. Lanning purred, his voice echoing out of the doorframe on which he reclined.

And suddenly Hermione felt like she was twelve, again, and trying to explain just why she was there with a mountain troll. "Y-yes."

"Quite a useful skill that," Mr. Lanning said with a wolfish smile that looked nearly approving. A moment's thought told her it was the eyes.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I promised my junior partner dinner, and I do so hate to break my word." Mr Lanning said in a careless tone that belied exactly how serious he was taking all this.

"Of course, we can discuss your assignment in more detail later if needed."

[a/n: read and review, I'm drawing close to the end of the teaser, and your reviews will guide the direction of where I go from here.

Google for: squirrels fiberoptic insulation In retrospect, using peanut oil for an internal fiberoptic coating was probably a mistake...

** yes, Hermione didn't really notice it earlier, too busy being scandalized about her work. And, yeah, it's pretty obvious. Snape believes in "be prepared for all possibilities."]


	4. Don't fall for your own lies

As they sat down for dinner, Mr. Lanning took Hermione's coat. Looking up at him, she gulped at seeing his harsh, aquiline features so very close. "Do I scare you, Miss Granger?" Mr. Lanning asked, his tone deceptively mild and even a trace curious. Studying her intently, his hawkish eyes told the lie in his words.

Hermione Granger considered the question for a fleeting instant. The incident earlier rushed into her head, and filled her thoughts instead. _Intentional. He meant to do it._ "If I said no, you'd know me a liar. But I never lie if I can help it, and so I'll say - _sometimes_."

And Severus laughed, his voice rich and dark as buckwheat honey. "An honest woman is a treasure, indeed!"

"Oh, I'm not always this honest, to be sure. But if we're to work together, it seems like we might as well know each other."h

"I can perhaps be persuaded to lay a few masks down, at least for the evening." Severus' eyes were always sparkling, and Hermione found herself wondering what was going on inside his Slytherin skull.

"And what will I find beneath them?" Hermione asked, suddenly burning with curiosity.

"Why more masks, of course. But perhaps you'll like these better. Truth be told, I never liked the bombastic, mordant schoolmaster anyway."

"What lies beneath all those masks, Damien?"

"Oh, if you want to know that question, you'll have to ask someone far wiser than me. It's been twenty years and then some, since I heard my own voice. A mask is quite a comfortable device, I've found."

 _Still hiding, still the child in the corner, in the cold._ "Maybe you'll just have to take them off, one by one."

"I'd be wary of that, were I you. You might find a riddle under the last."

Hermione's laughter was a crystal glass breaking, the irrevocable shards sparkling in the sunlight. "That's the first thing you've told me tonight that hasn't been a blatant lie. And it's the least honest thing you've said tonight."

Severus simply looked at Hermione, raising an eyebrow just a twitch, inviting her to continue.

"You cannot know a man by how he sees himself, else Lucius Malfoy would be a hero and Ronald Weasley the king of braggadicio." Severus' arrogance had always been smaller, his confidence unshakeable and uncertain at once.

"You also cannot know a man by how others see him, else Harry Potter would be some combination of impossible idiot, upstart hero, and lothario." Hermione's voice drawled out the last, in a fitting display of sarcasm. The other ideas were true enough to be possible, but Harry, as some sort of Cassanova - that was pure wit (it was also something Hermione had composed _years_ ago...)

"If all else fails - and it will - you judge a person by their behavior." Hermione looked keenly at Severus, before asking, "What have you been doing these past five years, Mr. Lanning?"

[a/n: Read and Review. This is the moment of truth: if I get 10 reviews (total), I'll go figure out how to do the long version of this story. The short version's already planned, and if you don't review, that's what you'll get. But I daresay you might like the longer version better. I don't _like_ teasing you, after all.]


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